


every one worth a thousand words

by starkly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Childhood Memories, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6860269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkly/pseuds/starkly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were so ginger as a kid.”</p><p>Pepper pauses with her martini halfway to her mouth and glances over at Tony. He’s lounging on the couch, drink in one hand and phone in the other. “What are you looking at?” she asks slowly.</p><p>“Your baby photos.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	every one worth a thousand words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [floodplain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/floodplain/gifts).



> Written for thestarsshineon @ tumblr, who requested something involving Pepper or Tony’s childhood photos. This started off cute and then I made myself sad about Peggy & co. (And now that CACW is out, extra sad about Maria...) Originally posted [here](http://aleator.tumblr.com/post/127371850834) August 2015.

“You were so ginger as a kid.”

Pepper pauses with her martini halfway to her mouth and glances over at Tony. He’s lounging on the couch, drink in one hand and phone in the other.

“What are you looking at?” she asks slowly.

“Your baby photos.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I called your mom and told her I’d pay 1,000$ for every picture of your childhood she forked over,” Tony explains as casual as can be, still flipping through the files on his phone.

Pepper sets her drink back down on the bar and adds four more olives. “Why are you calling my mother? I’m not even calling my mother.”

“Yeah, that’s a real shame by the way. She seems nice. Didn’t even take my money when she gave me the photos. I mean I transferred it to her account anyway but — ”

“Tony.” He stops babbling and Pepper goes over to sit beside him on the couch. He automatically drapes his arm around her shoulders, still holding his drink. She makes sure he doesn’t spill any on her shirt. “Why didn’t you just ask me if you wanted to see my old photos?”

“You would’ve said no.”

“I would not — ” But Tony’s looking at her over the top of his phone, and her shoulders sag slightly. “I would have shared _some_.”

Carefully curated beforehand, of course.

“You wouldn’t have shared this one,” he says, holding his phone up in her face. “And this one’s my new caller ID for you.”

Pepper takes a moment for her eyes to focus on the image in front of her nose. It’s a photo of a Halloween costume from when she was three or four, dressed as a Raggedy Ann doll.

“I might have shared it! If you’d _asked_ ,” she repeated pointedly.

Tony doesn’t seem to hear her. “So ginger…” he mutters, scrolling to a new photo. Pepper peers over his shoulder.

“Okay, that one I wouldn’t have shared.” It’s a photo of her in middle school with braces and pigtails and overalls and everything else she’d like to forget about.

“Aw, it’s cute. You’re cute. Nice to know you didn’t just pop out of the womb all trendy and fashionable.”

Pepper huffs. “I’ll have you know that was _very_ fashionable at the time.”

Tony just rolls his eyes and keeps scrolling through photos, so she adds, “I want baby photos of you now.”

“Sure, babe. You just had to ask.” His fingers fly over the phone and a moment later he’s holding a digitized photo of him as a child, wearing a tux and standing uncomfortably between his parents at some sort of party.

“Ones that I can’t Google.”

“That’s impossible, you can Google anything.”

Pepper gives him a look. “Not if you don’t want them to.”

“True. Look, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone sentimental. I don’t have any baby photos.”

Pepper leans closer, resting her head against Tony’s shoulder. “I don’t believe that. None at all?”

“Nope. Nada.”

“What about in that trunk of things from your father?”

Tony lets out a loud laugh. “If I don’t have any it’s because _he_ never kept any.”

“Your mother?”

“I don’t know, I don’t — ” He stops, slides his thumb over the screen of his phone and clicks on a new photo. “Let’s go back to making fun of your gingerness.”

Pepper puts her hand over his phone, lowering it to his lap. “Let’s not.”

“You’re no fun, Pep. Absolutely terrible — ” He lets out a muffled ‘mph’ of surprise when she leans up and kisses him, and his tune changes drastically. “Love you, you’re the best.”

“Uh-huh,” Pepper says dryly, then takes their drinks and Tony’s phone and sets them aside before moving back in.

—

“I got your baby photos.”

“What?” Tony sits up so fast he nearly bangs his head against the light he has pulled low over his workbench. Pepper’s heels click against the smooth floor with each step, still in heels despite her casual attire today. Tony just thinks she likes to make him feel extra short.

“I got your baby photos,” she repeats, setting an old cigar box on the table in front of him. Puzzled, he carefully flips up the lid.

Inside are weathered old photographs to match the weathered old box, scattered haphazardly along the bottom. Tony picks one up and flips it over.

In it a four year old Tony Stark stands there with his arms wrapped around a large stuffed dog. Crouched down beside him is Peggy Carter, her arms wrapped around him. They’re both smiling, a carnival fairground in the background of the photo.

He sets the photo down, then picks up the next one, then the next, until he’s pulled every photo out of the box. Peggy with curlers in her hair, a young Tony making a face as he tries to get one to stay in his own hair. Jarvis cooking in the kitchen, alarm on his face as he pulls Tony away from a hot stove. Angie Martinelli, who Tony always called Aunt Ange, sitting with Tony in her lap, reading him a book. He remembers she always used to do funny voices for all the characters, and then Peggy would try to show her up by reading her parts even more ridiculously. Jarvis, much to young Tony’s disappointment, never did any funny voices at all.

“Pepper…” He trails off, unsure what to say.

“Peggy says hi, by the way.” She slides a hand across his back, rubbing gently. “You should visit more.”

He puts down the last photo with the rest of the pile. “How is she?”

“Good, considering.” Pepper leans in and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Visit her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll — ” His throat is dry and he swallows heavily. There’s a photo he missed still in the box, face down against the bottom, and he fishes it out as an excuse to stop talking.

It’s his mother. Pre-teen Tony’s handing her something obscured by their hands, but he remembers it’s something he made, some gadget he was showing off, though he doesn’t remember what. Maria Stark is smiling, genuinely smiling, and Tony drops the photo. It flutters to the tabletop, landing amongst the rest.

“Put them away,” he mutters, looking off to the side.

Pepper frowns, but begins gathering up the photos and putting them back in the box. She takes one of them, however, and tucks it up against the base of one of Tony’s computer monitors. In the photo, Jarvis attempts to fix Tony’s tie while the boy makes a face.

“We’ll go tomorrow. You can thank Peggy for the photos.”

Tony leans into Pepper; with the height of the stool under him, he can rest his head against her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“I’m keeping my favorites, you know. It’s about time I got a new phone wallpaper.”

Tony smiles and presses a kiss to her cheek. “You can have all of them.”

Pepper sighs softly and runs her fingers through Tony’s already tousled hair. “We’ll share.”

They go to visit Peggy together the next day, and snap a selfie of the three of them that ends up as Tony’s new screensaver in the lab. The photo of him and Jarvis stays where it is on the desk. Pepper saves all the old photos of Tony and his family in the cigar box, and tucks it away with her own valuables for safekeeping, ready to pull it out again when Tony needs it.


End file.
